A Million Seasons
by sinamor
Summary: A Rose fell in love with a Psycho, or was it the other way around? Just a collection of Harley and Ivy one shots..
1. Foiled

_I wanted to do some one shots between Harley and Ivy because I think they're really cute together. I'll try updating at least once or twice a week. _

_Some WILL be under a more serious tone and others much more light-hearted. _

"Pam-a-Lamb, What do ya think looks better?" Harley peeked her blonde head out of the walk in closet, holding up two exact replicas of her iconic jester costume in each hand. "Red and black?" She shook the one in her left hand. "Or black and red?" She shook the other.

Poison Ivy stared at her psycho friend from across the room with a quirked brow. "Really?"

The ever so incompetent GCPD had somehow managed to raise their stakes recently. And Pamela had felt a little paranoid lately, thinking the cops had bugged her house or something worse. Her and Harley had been holding out in a small apartment near Amusement Mile, away from all the loud and annoying hustle and bustle of the main area of Gotham City.

A robbery of a rare Amazonian plant had taken place a few days earlier at the Gotham City art museum, courtesy of the femme fatale duo. And with a bonus prize of Ivy's wanted mugshot appearing all over the the front pages of the Gotham Gazette. A large 50,000 dollar reward for whoever caught her. She had smirked at hearing that while drinking her herb-filled tea the morning before, coming to the conclusion that she was worth at least 100,000.

Pamela was a cautious woman, and thought hard before making most actions, unlike her clown counterpart. But with the cops on her trail and closing in, she finally decided it would be best to abandon their hideout and leave Gotham for awhile, at least until the wandering cops had died down and lost interest.

Harley nodded at her friend with a small smile, not detecting the sarcasm in the slightest. "I wanna look fab if we're gonna be runnin' cross-country!"

Ivy sighed, turning back to neatly fold some of her clothes into her pleather suitcase. "This is only temporary, Harl. There's no need to start packing the costumes."

It was true though. She didn't want to drag even more attention upon herself by continuing the crime deal. She needed to be quiet, just for now.

The blonde's shoulders sank, a small pout playing at her pink lips. "But I can't do bad without my jester costume! That's crazy-talk, Red, and you know it."

She didn't get it, Ivy wanted to sigh again. But she figured the best bet would be to explain it in more simple terms.

"We are going to be taking a break from liberating the lives of Mother Earth's children for awhile. I need time to think, stake out my plans. And the pigs down at the station need time to cool down."

Harley contemplated her words for a few moments before widening her eyes, a large grin at her lips. "Are you saying what I think yer saying? Road Trip!" She wasted no time dropping her costumes and flinging herself at Ivy, wrapping her arms around her in a bear hug. "The queens of crime are going on the greatest vacation ever!"

"Only temporally." Ivy commented stiffly, her hands glued to her sides by Harley's arms.

Harley held up on her hold after a few seconds, stepping back and gripping Ivy on her arms. "Where are we going? Can we go ta Coney Island?" She jumped, squealing happily. "Oh I've always wanted to eat a New York hotdog while tanning my hot bod on the beaches, slurpin' some soda pop." She stared off into the distance, reminiscing inwardly. "It makes me think of home."

"Coney island?" Ivy scoffed, jerking herself out of the girl's grasp and turning back to the suitcase on the bed. "Not in a million years."

Harley put on a cartoon-like frown, her eyes dropping. "Awh, why not?"

"Because New York City's air pollution is almost as bad as Gotham's. Not to mention it is filled with trash, object and people kind." Ivy explained in a bitter tone, placing her lab coat into the suitcase.

"C'mon, I'll give ya the grand tour. Imma born n' raised native, ya know? I'll take ya to Central park!" Harley persisted onward, a goofy grin taking up half of the girl's lower face. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Ivy shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips. The girl never knew how to take no for an answer. Always begging. Ivy had never been the kind of woman to like a person who begged. She considered it weak-willed, only people who couldn't get what they wanted sunk down to begging. It was too fragile for her to even consider, too human. The true and the strong just went for what they wanted without asking. But for some reason, Harley always managed to make it cute. Annoyingly so.

"The final answer is no, Harl. Now go get your bags, it's time to leave." Ivy finished zipping up her large bag, and she turned from the bed to grab a supply of gardening tools that she planned to take. Might as well find some decent hobby to do while she hid.

Harley sulked, slowly making her way back to the closet, her gaze happening upon the window of the room as she walked by. Harley suddenly froze, her eyes widening as she looked out the window. "Uh.. Red."

"No, Harley." Ivy muttered irritably, her head down as she organized the garden tools in colored coded order. "We are not going to New York city and if you ask me again I won't hesitate to leave you behind."

"It's not that. It's-"

Ivy growled in frustration, her eyes still transfixed on assorting the tools. "How many times do I have to repeat no before your tiny little brain comprehends it?"

"I hear what ya sayin' but he's not going away!" Harley sputtered back, a slight waver taking over her pronounced Brooklyn accent.

That definitely caught Ivy's attention. What is she talking about? Ivy finally took her gaze off her suitcase and raised her eyes to the direction of Harley.

"What it it?" The GCPD? Oh it better not be. She wasn't going back to jail, she refused to be manhandled by a bunch of grabby meat-bags.

Harley said nothing, only raising her finger to point at the window. Curiosity taking over her, Ivy glanced up at the glass.

The Bat glared back at her.

Ivy's face immediately fell. "Oh shit."


	2. Sick Puppy

Ivy was awoken from a peaceful slumber by the sound of coughing. Cold, clear and raspy coughs. Her eyes immediately felt woozy at being awoken in such a abrupt manner. She moaned, flipping her body onto it's side and pulling the warm sheets over to coat her bare shoulder. It was still night out, as indicated by the city lights mixed with the darkness that swept through the window.

A light drizzle of rain ran down from the skies, streaming down the glass in the flow of a tropical river.

Stretching her arms above her head, she yawned softly. Carrying her body out of the snug sheets and sliding to her feet. She stood from her bed, a hand reaching out daintily to the bed post, searching for something to cover up her nude form. Her grip found a silk robe, one that she had made for herself with the help of wild silk worms a few years back when she visited the Amazon rain forest, and she pulled the article of clothing back toward her. The texture was supple and smooth, just how she liked her clothes to be. She slipped the robe over her shoulders, pulling her spotless arms through the loose sleeves, before tying the ropes together to secure it.

With slender legs, she walked to the large window that peeked out into the city limits. Her hand came up and brushed against the glass, the cool sensation that came off feeling good on her glowing green olive skin. The city looked surprisingly beautiful tonight, the shady building neon lights reflecting like twinkling stars. Gotham City, beautiful? Ivy smirked. Well this was certainly new.

A set of ragged coughs suddenly ran from somewhere outside her bedroom door, jumbling Ivy's thoughts immediately.

Her green gaze left the window, turning her head to look at the door. It sat slightly ajar, a trail of light spilling out from between the crack.

A cautious green vine made it's way up her leg, mimicking Ivy's thoughts exactly. "It's alright." She cooed softly to it, bringing her hand down to give it a gentle stroke. "Harley must be up."

But why?

She moved forward, slipping into the leafy hallway and heading down the array of moss. She first checked the bathroom, but was met with absolutely nothing. She then ventured her way into the kitchen, but it was empty. A tinge of worry began to creep up Ivy's spine. Where was that fool?

The idea that she ran off back to that abusive clown came to mind, but she quickly brushed it away. Her jester costume still rested in a pile back in the bedroom, she wouldn't of left without it.

Her questions were suddenly answered when another racking cough came from behind her. Ivy's ears perked up and she headed in the direction of the noise, eventually finding herself in the living room.

The living room was small in size, accompanied with two small sofas and a TV. A few potted plants glowed under her presence as she entered, basking in the warmth and genetic bond that she held with them. But what caught Ivy's attention was the frail young woman shivering on her floor, groaning out in pain.

"Harley?" She took a step forward, approaching her friend with concern.

The blonde's body flinched, as if hearing the words hurt her even more than she was. She glanced up, her eyes weak and puffy. "Oh Hiya Red." Her lips pulled into a small smile, although it didn't seem very genuine. "I'm not really feelin' too uh.. swell exactly. I-" Her words were cut off with another raspy cough that shook her entire body.

"Oh dear." Ivy said somberly under her breath. A sick Harley was not a good Harley.

"I'm too hot." The blonde spoke up in a whine, attempting to yank her sweat-drenched T-shirt off her body. She quickly got tangled in the sleeves, the shirt stuck over her face. Harley squealed, flipping onto her back and kicking her legs in child-like frustration, trying to pry the shirt off.

Ivy held back a chuckle, "Here, let me help you." Getting down onto her knees, she grabbed the top of the shirt, "Arms up." She demanded softly, and Harley complied without hesitation. She easily pulled the shirt off, exposing Harley's torso and chest. She was still wearing a light pink sports bra, not completely indecent.

Ivy stood, placing the flimsy night shirt on the top of the TV, before turning to face the floor-ridden Harley.

"Can you stand up on your own?"

She nodded slightly, forcing herself up off her back and onto her hands and knees. Ivy could see the pain she was in, no matter how hard Harley tried to conceal it. She bent down, taking the girl's arm and slipping it over her shoulder and stood, supporting the blonde as she forced herself upright. Harley leaned into Ivy, taking in the alluring pheromones that secreted from her body.

"You smell like strawberries." Harley slurred under her breath, her head feeling hazy.

Ivy chuckled in amusement, emerald green eyes staring down at the girl through thick dark lashes. She led Harley to the couch, helping her sit on top of the plush cushions. "Now lay back and relax." She purred, her voice taking on a motherly tone that she usually only reserved for her babies.. "Ivy's got it all under control."

"Gee, Red." Harley slumped her head down onto the sofa, eyelids half shut. She led out another dreadful cough, before calming, blue eyes glancing up to stare at the botanist. "You're the best. Better than board walk fries, and comin' from me, that's sayin' something." The blonde was babbling, she did that often.

Ivy gazed at her sick friend, her hand moving down to gently sweep the tangled hair from her forehead. Her skin was hot, unnaturally so. She definitely had come across some type of fever, whether it's common or not, she had no idea.

Her kitchen was flourishing with delicate herbs and plants capable of healing almost any virus, so she decided it would be best to start there. She approached one of the cabinets, opening it up and pulling out a handful of tubs filled with greenery.

She mixed some of the carefully picked herbs in a bowl, humming softly as she did so. She always found peace in situations like this, using her plants for simple tasks such as this. All members of the Plantae family needed care and compassion, and she would give them just that. She was the only one who was compassionate enough in this godforsaken city. In some ways, Harley was just like another plant. Albeit a loud and talkative plant that loved eating junk food and watching cartoons till two am.

She stirred the herbs for a few more minutes until they were nothing but mush. She then poured it into a small cup, adding some water from the sink for easy swallowing.

"Harley." Ivy called as she made her way back into the living room, the cup of liquefied herbs resting between her fingers. The rain storm still shook the outside, a spark of lightning flashing in the far distance from the window. She hoped the storm wouldn't hold up, instead giving the fresh plants of Gotham a well-needed and refreshing drink. They deserved it.

She entered the living room, walking up to the couch and kneeling down. "Harley." Ivy nudged the girl on the arm, who'd somehow fallen asleep in the few minutes that she had taken to get the medicine ready.

A moaned escape from between Harley's chapped lips, and she slowly stirred awake. Her eyes popped open in confusion, a woozy feeling taking over her as she stared up at the green figure above her.

"Mistah J?" She mumbled, squinting her eyes.

"Hell no." Ivy growled with a deep grimace. She looked nothing like that grinning hyena. "You're clearly in a state of disorientation." She explained softly, allowing herself to ignore the comment before. "Sit up and drink this."

Harley moved to pull herself up, but quickly flopped her head back down on the couch. "I can't." She whined pitifully. "I feel dizzy."

Ivy nodded understandably, putting her hands under Harley's shoulders and pulling her into a sitting position on the couch. She was such a light weight girl, as small as a porcelain doll. With ruby red lips and big blue eyes to match.

Ivy took a seat next to her, placing the cup in her hand as she did so. "Drink."

Harley stared down at the liquid in her hand, her uncertainty rising as she eyed the green slush. "This ain't gonna make me get any weird rashes or nothin', right?" Her voice cracked slightly, throat still very sore.

"If you don't want it, I'll be happy to take a back." A green hand reached for the cup.

"No!" Harley snatched it away from Ivy's grasp, holding the cup possessively close to her chest. "I'll drink it. Scouts honer."

She looked down, eying it warily one more time before tentatively putting it up to her lips, tipping the liquid forward. It sloshed in her mouth, and she considered spitting it up for a second. It tasted like grass. Grass in a watery form. She quickly forced herself to swallow, a look of disgust embedded on her face as it ran down her throat.

She immediately felt dizzy, the effects of the medicine working quick in her immune system.

"Ack! That was worse than the time Mistah J made me taste Prairie Oyster!" Harley exclaimed dramatically, her hands moving down to clutch her toned stomach.

Ivy raised a brow, not sure if she wanted to know or not. "Prairie Oyster?"

Harley grinned, nodding eagerly. "One part bourbon, another part raw egg. And a dash of Tabasco sauce. I was puking for hours on end while he laughed away like a kooky cat. He's such a prankster sometimes yanno?" Her smile suddenly fell just as quick as it came and she looked down to the floor, a tiny sigh escaping from her lips. "I really miss him."

Ivy's hand found it's way to her shoulder and she pulled Harley against her, hands running through the blonde's soft hair. "The effects of the herbs work quickly." She explained, wanting to change the subject away from the clown. She had heard the same whines and cries from Harley a million times, all with the equal amount of delusion and denial. "Are you feeling better?"

Harley nodded, her throat suddenly feeling a lot more clearer than it did before. "I feel as fresh as a peach."

"Good to hear." Ivy smiled, pleased that the herbs had worked as quick as they did. She had been experimenting awhile with different plants on how to counter certain viruses in less than a few minutes. It seemed they were much stronger than she anticipated, healing Harley of a common cough in a matter of seconds. This was great news.

"Ohh.. I feel sleepy." Harley suddenly yawned, her head lulling to the side and eyes dropping.

The only problem with the herbs so far is that she had come across was that they caused odd symptoms of sleep deprivation, making the user extremely tired afterward. Ivy had tried countering the effects beforehand, but it seemed to never work. Although in this case, a sleepy Harley wouldn't hurt.

"Goodnight, Red. Don't let the bat-bugs bite..." Harley slurred as her head collapsed, out like a light as her head landed conveniently onto the redhead's lap. Her slender legs curled up to her chest, and she snuggled into Ivy's lap, like a puppy would to it's owner.

Ivy looked down at the sleeping woman on top of her, a content sigh escaping from her lips. She brushed a few stray strands of hair from Harley's face, admiring the striking beauty that the strange girl possessed.

For now, she'd let her sleep. No doubt the poor woman needed it.


	3. First Impressions

_I'm not all that pleased with this one but whatever.  
_

The first time she saw her, had been in Arkham.

Some noticeable things had changed a little since her last stint in the nuthouse. The guards were a little more touchy as they brought her in by the side sleeves of her costume, jerking her into a small white-walled room to change into the mandatory prison uniform. That ugly neon orange. She never liked orange as a color, didn't fit her lean figure like the red n' black garb did. Some therapy rooms seemed to be redone, after-school PSA posters hanging on the walls with cheesy sayings like "Suicide is never the answer" in friendly large letters. Another had said "Always keep a smile" and she'd instantly thought of her clown beau, causing her to break out in loud non-stop titters while her weary therapist could only face-palm at his seat.

The floor tiles in the showers looked freshly redone, the couches were no longer lumpy mattresses with stuffing pouring out of their leather sides.

Harley wasn't blind, she had only been there a few times before, but she knew clearly that this was their weak attempt at trying to bring across the message that 'Arkham Cares.' To raise their reputation as a scary ol' insane asylum. With the new funds provided to them from the oh so generous billionaire Bruce Wayne, they were able to step up their high security with new cameras installed and even twice the amount of guards patrolling than before. Making an escape now, would be a much bigger hassle than it used to be. But hey, she liked a good challenge.

Arkham was no place for a gal like her, too drab and dreary. The building was an aged mess, with Gothic architecture that was converged with modern technology. Giving it an almost endless in time vibe.

She'd only been there for a few days, but the boredom was already eating at her mind. She needed to talk to someone, a regular person that is, not some pushy therapist that asked invasive questions about her relations.

They'd told her that socialization was a privilege, not a right. But Harley could put on the timid innocent little girl act just fine. So after some good behavior in therapy sessions, as in answering the questions without cracking a cheesy pun, she was allowed access into the recreational room.

Harley had been there a few times before, and frankly it was nothing too special.

A guard came to her cell after breakfast to lead her down, and she complied, even saying a friendly 'good morning'.

She was greeted with a couple silent stares from the other inmates, one balding guy in the corner taking a particularly long and shameless leer at her chest. Harley rolled her eyes dramatically at that, but she was used to it. And as long as they didn't touch she was fine with a little admiration from a distance. It wouldn't hurt a gal.

But was anyone in Arkham not a creepy jerk?

Arnold Wesker, he had been the only one so far in all her trips to ever speak to her in a kindly manner. Treat her like an actual human being. It was one of her first stints at Arkham, and boy, was she frightened as ever. The loud sorrow filled screams of patients eating at the back of her mind. Electroshock therapy? What if she was next? The thoughts were all jumbling through her like a turning blender.

But Arnold, he got to her with humor. Threw her a cute little puppet show to make her laugh. And laugh she did, like a clown at the circus. And suddenly, Arkham didn't seem all that bad.

He wasn't here though, she took it in observation as her eyes scanned the room.

So she found as seat on one of the empty couches, plopping herself down into the lumpy cushions. Harley brought her knees up, resting dainty toes carefully at the edge of the seat, arms crossed around her legs and head propped on top of her knees.

The TV was on but it was some tedious documentary about Plankton and there was no way she'd watch something stupid like that.

She sighed, already feeling bored. Harley wished the Joker was allowed rec-room privileges. But she knew that idea was almost impossible. Arkham was stupid, but not that stupid.

"Stop hogging up the window, plant. You're blocking the sun for the rest of us." A gravelly grim growl came from the other side of the room, splintering the silence that was held before.

Harley curiously glanced over at a peeved Harvey Dent. Or did he prefer Two-Face instead? She scrunched her nose up in thought. She'd read his file back when she was still a boring psychiatrist. Poor guy was leading district attorney, before being burned and scarred by a glob of acid. It left one side of his face severely scorched, the other still surprisingly normal. Dare Harley say it, handsome even.

He was a walking case of Multiple Personality disorder. Pun intended.

"That's the point, _darling._" An extremely smooth and mesmerizing voice called back to the half charred man, a hint of amusement underlined with irritation mixed in the tone. "I don't want you getting any more burnt than you already are."

A series of hoots and hollers went off from a bunch of other inmates, thinking some kind of brawl was to break out between the too. Harley's mouth dropped at hearing the insult, a large and idiotic grin appearing on her face, stretching out her cheek dimples. She spun her head in the direction of the voice, wanting to see who was the chick who was ballsy enough to back talk big scary ol' Two Face.

And boy, was she something.

A strikingly beautiful redhead sat perched on the one and only window sill that was installed in the recreational room. Sitting in a way, that the shining morning sun got all four corners of her curvacious body. Waves, long ringlets of bright fire cascaded downward, her hair pulled over one shoulder. Her skin was green. Green as a leaf! An emerald hue of color that beamed in the oncoming sunlight.

Poison Ivy. Eco-terrorist and master manipulator.

Harley had seen plenty of photos of the botanist in the morning papers, but they were always black and white. A blurry and dull showcase. But up close, she was enchanting. Even in the drab Arkham uniform, her curves were still clearly cut through. She could almost envy her if it wasn't for the fact that there were other biggers things going down.

The seductress was pleased with the inmate's reactions to her insult, playfully throwing the fuming Two Face a sly wink, her lashes full and thick.

Two Face looked as if he was going to blow, Harley saw the same gleam in his eyes that Mistah J sometimes got when she messed up on a heist. He seemed to be deliberating something, and one of his hands found it's way into his front pant's pockets.

Harley at first thought he was gonna pull out a knife and shank the redhead or something. Holey Cannoli, that would be a sight to see! But instead, much to her utter surprise, and somewhat disappointment, he presented just a simple coin.

A coin? Harley quirked a brow. How you gonna kill someone with a coin?

"Heads says I beat you senseless for that comment." He sneered at the redhead between burnt lips, flipping his coin absentmindedly. "Tails and I'll let you off the hook."

_Ohhhh.._ Harley nodded inwardly, her excitement rising as she continued to watch the exchange silently from her couch.

Ivy's emerald eyes narrowed into slits, quickly losing her playful attitude and now glaring at Two Face with a rising annoyance. "Touch me and I'll sample a noxious cocktail of poisons straight to that cold heart of yours."

The coin was launched into the air, spinning fast as it flipped and tumbled. It was completely silent in the common room, almost every inmate eye glued to the spectacle and the beaming slab of change that flew through the air. It was like watching a game show, or scratching a lottery ticket. No one new what was gonna go down.

A simple game of chance.

Two Face caught the coin skillfully, it landing in the palm of his right hand with ease. He covered it, throwing a unamused Ivy one more cocky sneer before flipping it onto the front of his other hand.

_Tails._

Two Face frowned.

Ivy saw this and her plump red lips pulled into a boastful grin. "Too bad. I was looking forward to killing you."

"Fuck you." He growled frustratingly between closed teeth, turning and venturing back to a rundown pool table, leaving the redhead behind to bask in her solitude.

Ivy watched him walk off, a small 'Hmph' emitting from her lips. She turned her head back to the window, but not before feeling another set of watchful eyes lock onto her. Her gaze moved to the couches, and instinctively jumped to a young blonde woman who looked at her with almost.. shall we say.. admiration.

Harley immediately tensed at being spotted by the seductress, embarrassingly and quickly spinning her head away and looking down at her toes.

Ivy smirked at the woman's discomfort and obvious attempt at trying to seem casual and not guilty. She knew she had just watched all that go down and was clearly either starstruck or enthralled. Probably both. She got that from people, mostly men. Generally speaking, women were much more intelligent and headstrong. There hormones and urges much more controlled. But there was always some discomposure held when they were in the presence of the infamous redhead.

She liked it that way. Her confidence rising considerably from it. Even the biggest and burliest guards in Arkham were still wary of her.

Her gaze traveled back to the woman on the couch. Small and blonde. Cute almost.

She had a name, didn't she? Something trashy, like that of a loose stripper.

Hailey?

Ivy couldn't recall at the moment. Although she was aware that she was the same freak who hung out with that grinning sociopath. Both were lacking the basics of sanity, although Ivy didn't see much of a sinister vibe arise from the young girl. She definitely was a lot more composed than her boyfriend.

Cheery. She was too cheery.

Ivy shook her head, turning back to stare out the window at the beautiful green vines that graced the side of the building, running steadily upward and resting right near the window.

Joker will probably kill her in a few weeks, she mused inwardly, not a hint of dismal visible in her thoughts.


End file.
